


Masterpiece Theater

by AmberLehcar



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberLehcar/pseuds/AmberLehcar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soul's newly discovered ability to transform into a weapon gives him the perfect opportunity to leave his old life behind. But starting anew has its own set of problems as he tries to juggle his training, friends, and stubborn partner on the road to becoming a Death Scythe. Prequel to the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Acadia is Gone

He stares absentmindedly out the window as a voice on the radio drones on about the heatwave hitting Nevada. Knowing full well how different the weather would be compared to his home in Connecticut, he had come prepared with shorts and a tank top. He just wishes his legs didn’t stick uncomfortably to the leather seats.

“Still going to give me the silent treatment?” Wes asks, eye fixated on the road. “You’ve barely spoken a word since we got off the plane. Don’t tell me it’s nerves getting to you.” All remains silent for a moment, save for the sound of tires over the cobblestone streets. The older boy sighs. “They will miss you, you know. Even if they won’t come out and say it.”

Soul rests his head against the window, not caring that the unevenness of the road is making his forehead slam into the window every few seconds. “Sure have a funny way of showing it…”

“I may not know much about being a ‘demon weapon’, but I do know that weapons see a lot of action, usually very dangerous action. I’m sure it must be hard for them to say goodbye. I’m sure they think it could be-”

“I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.” The younger brother knows that he hasn’t quite come to terms with his own mortality yet. Classes discussing how to stay alive on the battlefield are sure to come, but for now he doesn’t want to think about such grim subjects. Even so, if his parents really did believe that it could be the last time they ever see him, why not say goodbye? Why not offer to come with him to Nevada and help him get adjusted to his new life?

Wes’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “You’re very brave, you know.” 

“What? What’s brave about running away?”

Eyes still on the road ahead, he smiles and says, “Not running away. Finding yourself.” Soul doesn’t have time to respond before they finally see the base of the enormous steps leading to his new home. Shibusen is a monster of a building, and while they had seen its spires for a while, seeing it up close and personal makes the younger boy feel like an ant in comparison. The rental car comes to a halt, and Wes pops the trunk open. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he asks, climbing out of the vehicle to help Soul unload his bags. “It’s no trouble at all! There’s still time before orientation, right? Maybe we could take a look around?”

Backpack slung across his back and suitcase handle in hand, Soul shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Get going.” His brother’s eyebrows knit in worry, but he nods anyway and moves to get back into the driver’s seat. Just before he closes the door, the younger calls out, “Wes!” The door stays open just a crack. “Th-thanks…” he offers meekly.

A thumbs-up appears out the door then retreats back into the vehicle. The engine once again springs to life, and Wes drives off. He glances up at the rearview mirror a few times until he has to make a turn and Soul disappears. A lump forms in his throat as he hopes that it isn’t the last time he will see his little brother.

Finally alone, Soul stares up at the staircase to the academy, lowly whistling. “Couldn’t make a ramp or anything, no, that’d be too easy…” he mumbles. His feet are glued to the ground and the butterflies in his stomach he’d been fighting the whole trip here have returned. It’d be so easy to just run. Nevada is a large state, and Wes had been kind enough to leave him with a decent amount of cash. He can find the next bus or train or anything and just… disappear. But his brother’s words linger in his mind. “Finding myself, huh?”

Wes was right, there is plenty of time to explore before heading off to orientation and officially starting his life as a weapon at Shibusen. But the task of climbing the stairs to the school is just too daunting. He needs time to mentally prepare for the literal and metaphorical trek, so he opts to take a look around the city first. Hopefully he doesn’t look too much like a sucker tourist, lugging around a suitcase behind him.

Death City is a bit more lively than he had anticipated. There’s the usual sound of cars going by, sirens going off, people talking, much more noise than the name had led on. He starts to question why the city is named the way it is when he starts noticing the differences between here and New Haven. Most of the shops look like they haven’t had time to take down their Halloween decorations, and even those without the odd decor have dark punny names like Deathbucks. As he walks by a park, he overhears a group of children playing a game of Ghost in the Graveyard. “Midnight, starlight, hope to see a ghost tonight!” one of them shrieks before running straight for the tunnel slide to find their friends. Every place has its quirks, he supposes.

“Hey you! Kid!” Soul turns his attention to an old woman behind a stand he had happened to stop at while watching the children play. “Gonna stay there like a lump or do ya plan to buy somethin’?” she asks, hand on her hips. He manages to stammer out an apology, hands raised in defense. “Well, if you don’t plan on buyin’ then I suggest movin’ on. You’re blocking business here!”

He glances around him and considers making a comment about the lack of business, but his mother raised him better than to mouth off to an old woman. Instead, he tries to fake interest in her wares, mostly just jewelry and other accessories, until he comes across an obnoxiously bright yellow, paisley headband. His hand reaches hesitantly for it, and the woman catches the movement.

“Caught your eye, did it? Well, go on, try it on! See how you like it!” She moves to fetch a small hand mirror as he gingerly places it on his head. He’s fixing his messy hair around the bit of fabric when the woman gasps, startling him. “You remind me of a young man I met once! Cool as a cucumber and smooth like chocolate. Usually had a whole gaggle of girls following him, myself included!” she cackles, shaking the mirror in her hands as she holds it out for him to see. 

At first he cringes while he waits for her to stabilize the mirror long enough for him to see his reflection. He doesn’t want old woman flirting with him. But as he looks in the mirror, he sees the transformation she’s talking about. From the anxious, lonesome kid from the east coast to the cool, badass weapon from the desert. He had been hoping that Shibusen would be his new start, so maybe this was that first step. The thought that his mother would be completely disgusted by the headband crosses his mind briefly. 

“I’ll take it.”


	2. Hard to Drink to My Continued Success

Coming back to the grand staircase is different somehow. As if he is wearing a suit of armor instead of a simple headband. It isn’t much, but it’s enough for Soul. Armed with his new mantra of “calm, cool, collected”, he grabs hold of his suitcase and begins the climb. The first forty stairs aren’t necessarily easy with the added weight of the suitcase, but they’re manageable. Step sixty is where he begins to regret bringing even the little bit he had decided to bring from home. Once he reaches step… whatever, he’s lost count, he notices there are others like him also making their way up to Shibusen.

They, too, are panting and sweating profusely, however their gazes are all set on the school. They came here for a purpose, and no amount of stairs are going to deter them. Soul can feel his second wind coming along after seeing his fellow classmates’ resolve but is too distracted by them to notice his whole foot hasn’t quite made it onto the next step. A bit of flailing helps keep him from eating cement, but it doesn’t save his pride. He can feel his ears burning just as a black blur whizzes by him.

“C’mon! You can do it!” a female voice calls from above.

Picking himself off the ground, the boy mumbles, “How can she have so much energy…?” He looks back up towards the school to see far more than just a black blur. Blonde pigtails and a flash of white that makes his whole face flush. The girl doesn’t seem to notice that she’s flashed him and continues running up the steps two at a time. Maybe someday he’ll have the opportunity and the courage to tell her about this day and they can laugh about it, but for now Soul fights to regain his composure and follow her up the stairs. After all, the badasses in the movies bounce back from embarrassment quickly, and they sure don’t get all flustered at the sight of some girl’s panties.

His Three Cs are repeated over and over again until finally he reaches the top. Hands on his knees, he stops to catch his breath and hears someone gasp next to him. He looks up to see a brunette girl with her hands over her mouth, looking out behind him. The boy turns and looks out over Death City, his new home. For the first time in a long time, a smile tugs at his lips.

“Hey, First Years! Orientation is starting soon, so let’s get a move on!” Soul turns back towards the school to find a red-haired man waving both him and his fellow classmates down. “Sid’s not the kind of man to wait on late students! C’mon, Octopus Head!”

The smile is short-lived. Giving a pointed glare to the man (who seems to get incredibly offended by it), the boy follows the others into the school. The halls are flooded with students, some nose deep in books, others laughing with friends, and still others talking to weapons in their hands. It still startles him when he hears some of the weapons answer back. Even though he had been able to fully transform once, it still feels like a dream. Like he’s back home in bed, and any moment now his father will be shaking him awake, shouting that he’d slept in again. But this is real, and he won’t be sleeping in again for a long time. He has a reason to get up in the morning again.

He files into a classroom, awkwardly pulling his suitcase along so no one trips over it and it doesn’t attack his own ankles, and is stopped by a dark-skinned woman, face wrapped in cloth. “Name?” she asks, glancing from him to the clipboard in her hands and back.

“Soul… Evans,” he replies, avoiding eye contact. Without another word, she hands him a burgundy nametag that reads “weapon” and turns to the next student behind him. Instead of putting on the nametag, the boy clasps it tightly in his hand and moves to find the least crowded area of the room. He honestly hadn’t anticipated there being so many people at the school. The ability to transform into a weapon didn’t seem like that common of a trait, and neither did being able to wield living, breathing weapons for that matter. Yet here he is, struggling to find elbow room. He fastens the nametag to the front of his tank top just as a dark-skinned man takes the podium at the from of the classroom.

“Thank you all for being here,” he booms. “My name is Sid, I’m a teacher here at Shibusen. Some of you hear have the unique ability to become weapons. Some of you may have the ability to see souls. And still some of you may not have full control of your powers. No worries, we’ll get to that in your classes.

“I know it must be a little daunting being here, and it will take time to adjust, but I urge you all to keep a look out for your partner. Meisters for weapons and weapons for meisters. Who you partner with is very important, especially for weapons who struggle with their weapon forms, so focus on finding a partner you have good chemistry with.” All the students look around at each other and shuffle their feet nervously. “That’s all I have for you for now. Girls, please follow Nygus to the girls’ dormitory. Boys, you’ll be following me to the boys’ dormitory.” 

The girls file out first, following closely behind the woman who had given Soul his nametag. As he watches them leave, he catches the brunette from earlier staring at him. She notices and turns bright red before running to catch up with her group. The mantra and new outfit appear to be working, and the tiny smile reappears on Soul’s face.

It takes a little bit of walking through the city before they reach the dormitory, but the boy is happy about it. The people of the city are interesting, and he’s definitely a people watcher. But with all the excitement and people he’d met that day, Soul can feel his eyelids getting heavy and is certainly pleased when they finally arrive at the dorms. Common area, locker room-like bathroom, fully stocked kitchen, and they are finally shown their assigned rooms. Most of the rooms have three roommates until it is down to just Soul and a bald kid from orientation.

“Evans and Ford, you’ll be room sixty-four,” Sid informs them while handing them out sheets and keys to their new room. “This is tomorrow’s itinerary, so please be punctual. I’ve never been the kind of man to excuse tardies. Feel free to take a look around campus, but make sure you get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.” With that, he leaves the two boys to make their room arrangements.

Before Soul can even move from his spot in the doorway, the other boy claims the bed farthest away from the door. “I bet the light in the hallway is on all night for anyone who needs to get up in the middle of the night, and I won’t be able to sleep if I can see the light from under the door,” he says, throwing his suitcase on the mattress before taking a seat next to it. A blue nametag sits on his chest with “meister” written across it. “So you’re a weapon, huh?” he asks, presumably waving at Soul’s nametag. 

Soul shrugs. “Guess so.” He follows his roommate’s lead and claims a bed of his own, the one closest to the door, leaving one bed between them. The more space between them the better, he thinks.

“Well, let’s see then!” The meister leaps from the bed, making the other boy back away slightly. “I’m curious if we’re compatible as partners.”

The odds of them being partners is slim to none in Soul’s mind. Sid had said that partners need some sort of chemistry, and even though they haven’t known each other very long, he can tell that a partnership with this “Ford” guy isn’t going to work out. But he doesn’t know how to come right out and say no, especially since it may make rooming together awkward, so he screws up his face in concentration and attempts to transform. 

It’s the same as all the other times. A faint glow emits from his right arm, and once the light disappears, all that remains is a scythe blade. Here he was hoping he’d get the full transformation down this time. The meister doesn’t seem to notice that he’d meant to transform more than just his arm and claps politely. “Very impressive. This is honestly the first time I’ve seen someone transform. However, scythes… just aren’t my style. Perhaps it would be best if we didn’t partner up, Mr. Evans.”

Scythe blade returning to flesh, Soul gives a small sigh of relief and says, “Just call me Soul.” He returns to his bed and begins unpacking his luggage.

“Soul then. I’m Ox Ford, very nice to meet you.” The meister, too, begins unpacking. They work in silence for a little while before Ox says, “Did you want to go walk around for a bit when we’re done here? Get a better tour of the city than we did on the way here?”

Soul shakes his head. “Ready for bed, to be honest.” After a few “are you sure”s and most of his suitcase emptied, Ox leaves to explore, leaving the other boy alone for the first time since climbing the stairs. He has maybe four outfits to his name now, a guitar pick Wes brought home for him once, an old record from his grandmother, and a folder of sheet music as well as the usual toiletries all set nicely at the foot of the bed. Sighing, he flops down on the bed despite all of his belongings sitting precariously. It still doesn’t feel like he’s woken up from the dream yet, and his mind is racing with thoughts of how tomorrow will go for him. The pamphlets he’d received in the mail had a lot of information on what to expect, but so far everything is more than he had been ready for. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he hopes that sleep will make everything better. And that maybe tomorrow will find him a partner.


	3. This is Just a Part I Portray

The itinerary says that he doesn’t need to be to class until nine, but Soul’s internal clock seems to think that six in the morning is the perfect time to wake up. He rolls over to see Ox mumbling incoherently in his sleep on the other side of the room. The sight is comforting somehow. Shibusen wasn’t a dream after all. 

The boy carefully slips out of bed, doing his best to avoid his belongings he’d kicked off the bed in his sleep while he picks up fresh clothes. May as well get up and face the day. Padding quietly out the door, Soul makes his way to the bathroom to change. He takes a moment to look at his hair in the mirror, tugging a bit on the end of a strand. It lays a bit like Wes’s, and a wave of homesickness washes over him. Maybe he should cut it short? Or dye it? Anything to get rid of the constant reminder of home. But his goal at Shibusen is to find himself, and he happens to like his hair color, so he decides to pick up some hair gel after class. Besides, spiky hair is supposed to be cool, right?

Ox stirs a bit when Soul returns to their room. Very quietly, he sets his old clothes on his bed and leaves once more, locking the door behind him. It’s an ungodly hour, and he isn’t about to be that roommate. Restless legs scream at him to move from his place in the hallway, and he decides to take a small tour of campus, like his roommate had the night before.

Early morning in Death City is still much warmer than New Haven, but it isn’t as unbearable as the previous day had been. The sun isn’t showing its face yet, and the streets are empty. Soul takes a deep breath as he looks out over the city again. “This is home now…” he whispers. The morning calm is interrupted when a body runs right into him, knocking him over the edge of the first step. He somehow manages to catch himself before falling too far down the stairs, but not without a nasty gash on his knee.

“Black Star, watch where you’re going!” a tall girl shouts at the person he assumes ran him over. The girl comes to his side, extending a hand to help him up. “I’m so sorry about that! I still don’t know how he can be so energetic in the morning…” He takes her hand and stands up, wincing at his knee. She notices and immediately searches the pockets of her running shorts for a handkerchief. “It’s not much, but I hope it helps,” she says handing it over to him. “Oh! You seem new here, am I right?”

“Yeah, just got here yesterday,” he answers, leaning over to press the handkerchief into his wound.

The girl fishes in her pockets once more and pulls out a small piece of paper. “Here, it’s an invite. Sid agreed to a party to help welcome the First Years. It’ll be at six tonight, so hopefully you’ll be there?” She smiles warmly at him, waiting for a response.

Soul hesitates for a moment before finally nodding. Parties are supposed to be his scene if he’s going to keep up the cool guy act.

“Tsubaki! Hurry up!” a voice calls from above them.

The girl sighs. “That’s my partner, so I’d better be going. I look forward to talking more later!” She waves at him then runs back up the stairs to follow the loud voice going on about needing to train harder.

“They supposed to be the welcoming committee?” he smirks. With the wound finally beginning to clot, he straightens up and looks down at the paper in his hand. He can’t help but laugh a little. The words are scrawled in all capital letters, just barely legible. He’s able to make out directions to Sid’s house and the most ridiculous signature he’s ever seen, complete with giant five-point star in the middle. It probably belongs to this “Black Star” character, who is sure to be at the party if his partner plans on being there.

Suddenly his stomach is doing backflips. He hasn’t been to a party in ages. What does one do at parties? Especially ones for a group of people who can either see souls or turn into freaking weapons? But wait, everyone is in their teenage years. So maybe it’s more of a hang-out thing. But Sid is hosting the party, so it must be at least semi-formal? Soul’s head is spinning, but he knows he has to go no matter what. His new reputation is on the line.

“Um… excuse me? Are you okay?”

The boy looks up to find a familiar face, the same brunette girl who had been staring at him the day before. “Yeah, why?”

Her hands fidget slightly. “Well, you were just kinda staring off into space. And your knee…”

“I’m fine now, no worries.” Short sentences are the key to not sounding like a total doofus, he decides. 

“Oh, good. Um, we didn’t really get the chance to talk yesterday, but I… know you saw me.” She blushes and holds out her hand. “I’m Sophia.”

Both his hands are full, so he takes a moment to figure out that he should tuck the party invite under his arm so he can properly greet the girl. “Soul.”

Once the two break contact, she fidgets with a strand of hair. “Sorry about yesterday,” she says. “It’s just… your hair and teeth are really awesome.”

Many words have been used to describe Soul’s hair and teeth. “Awesome” has never been one of them. His tongue presses gently against one of his sharp teeth and he thinks on his next words. “All real, you know. Didn’t dye, didn’t sharpen, nothing.”

“That’s really cool.”

His act is working. The invite starts to slip from under his arm, but he catches it before the wind can take it away from him. Soul watches her eyes dart towards it and takes a chance. “Do you, uh… Do you know about this First Year party?”

Sophia shakes her head. “Sounds like it’d be fun though. Maybe.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there,” he says as confidently as he can, forcing a toothy smirk. Taking one final look at the invite to memorize the address and time, he hands the paper to her. “Be nice to see a friendly face.”

Her face grows a little redder as she takes the invite from him. “Yeah, it would. I’ll, um, see you later then,” she says with a small wave. With that, she’s gone, leaving him behind with a racing heart.

Wes would be proud, he thinks. Heart threatening to beat out of his chest or no, he can still talk smoothly to women. Sorta. Fake it till you make it they always say.


End file.
